Insides and Outsides
by Seersha
Summary: Lana wasn't the one who could turn Clark's insides into outsides. Clana but with a Clois slant, if that makes sense!


**TITLE:** Insides and Outsides

**AUTHOR:** Seersha

**RATING:** K+

**PAIRING:** Clark/Lana

**SPOILERS:** Season 4

**DISTRIBUTION:** Please do not archive anywhere. It will be up at FF if you would like to link to it.

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own these characters (obviously) and no copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this fanfiction.

**TIMELINE: **AU set sometime during season 4 or 5.

**SUMMARY:** Lana wasn't the one who could turn Clark's insides into outsides. Clana but with a Clois slant, if that makes sense!

**NOTE:** Originally published December 2004.

.-.-.

Lana wasn't the one.

Lana was not the one that caused Clark's heart pound so fast he had to remind himself to breathe. Lana wasn't the one who touched him in places he didn't know he had inside. Lana wasn't the one talking too much; too fast that Clark sometimes wondered how his brain had managed not to explode yet. And Lana wasn't the one who could make him burst into a fit of laughter with just a single look or a word.

Lana wasn't the one in his dreams, where his skin burned and cooled as it slid along her body. No, that was someone else. It wasn't Lana's presence that made him think, "This must be what 'home' feels like." Lana couldn't even read his looks or know all the things he didn't say out loud.

Lana wasn't the one Clark wanted her to be.

Clark knew all of this, on some level, perhaps buried too deep for too long, but it didn't make sense.

He could make an entire list of what Lana was in his eyes. Lana had called him on that once, but he couldn't see past the good. It is what he did, what he was always doing. Clark looked for the best in people, and Lana was sweet, compassionate, kind and so beautiful.

For as long as he could remember, Lana had filled his world with dreams. He had spent hours thinking of her eyes and the shade of her skin and hair and all the tiny details that had rolled into a satisfying feeling of contentment. He didn't think he'd ever looked for perfect. He had just desired and wanted what everyone did. Happiness and love; and how could it be wrong to wish for a simple future with no complications?

It was Lana who had noticed him, despite the fact that he used to fall all over himself the minute she looked his way. It was Lana who came to his side night after night to look at the stars and talk.

Lana was the one who had seen his pain and watched one evening, as he quietly excused himself from the party going on. Lana had been the one who followed him, put a comforting hand on his arm and turned those soft eyes to his face. One touch and Clark felt himself unravelling, too fast and without time to think, because then he had kissed her.

She wasn't the one he could tell his secret to, but Lana was the one Clark kissed, desperately and hard and with so much pain that Lana tore his heart apart. For a moment, she had been shocked, this wasn't Clark who was gentle and quiet and shy. But it was still Clark, there had been so much between them and she couldn't do anything less than kiss him back with as much force.

Lana's body was small and soft and for a second he flashed to another thought, to a woman who was taller with different coloured hair. It could have been someone else he pressed his body against, but it wasn't, it was Lana. Clark was rattled for a moment by the feeling Lana put into returning the kiss. It scared him that she was giving him all of this when he wasn't sure what it was he was giving her.

As he trailed kisses down Lana's throat, he knew that this wasn't about wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. He wasn't the boy who had fallen in love at five years old and he was sorry to her for not being able to be that boy anymore. Now he was turned upside down. One day he would have to leave her and he would grieve for her and all that they couldn't have.

They kissed and pushed at each other until they were against a wall of the barn. Lana's lips were bruised and wet; her hands were all over his back and under his shirt. He slipped his own hands around her waist and felt the curve of her hips just above her jeans. Breathing into her ear, he stilled for a moment, trying to commit the feel of her to memory.

It wasn't going to go any further than this, Clark knew. Tongues and hands all over the place, but clothes still on, just rumpled so much it would be obvious to anyone who looked. Some time later they stood leaning against each other, panting. Clark let his head rest on her shoulder as she nuzzled softly against his neck.

He didn't know what to say, words escaped him. He did almost flinch though, when he felt Lana smile against his cheek, hands running smoothly against his back. Quietly she asked, "Are you okay?"

He heard the happiness in her voice, the surety that this meant something profound and couldn't answer. Leaning back a little, he pulled away to look into her eyes. Her smile was still there and he returned it because he didn't know what else to do. Instead of words Clark closed his eyes and met her lips in a soft, whisper of a kiss.

They parted without another word and headed back to the gathering. If Lana noticed the fact that he was withdrawn and quiet, she didn't bring it up. The party was still in full swing, Clark doubted anyone had noticed either of them slip away. He met Chloe on the dance floor and she grabbed his hands and swung him around happily. He smiled then, a real smile. His eyes darted around the room to catch Lana's gaze from over Chloe's head. She was watching him intently but didn't move.

It became somewhat of a routine. They met in the same spot behind the barn in the early evenings of most nights to kiss and bruise each others' lips and feel each others' skin.

There had never been a conversation between them about what it was. It certainly wasn't a relationship and Clark wasn't even sure it was love. It was maybe, a way to fill himself up with everything Lana that he could get. It wasn't much really, just enough to hold onto until he had to let go. That was unfair to Lana because he knew she was giving him more and she wanted more. He could feel it in the way she said his name sometimes. Soft and begging, but not for more touch, for more of him. All he ever gave her back though, was a hand around her waist or on her back and his lips against her ear.

He cared not enough and more than he wanted, which was why he couldn't escape.

Apart from the kissing and touching, nothing had changed. Clark thought that Lana knew exactly what this was, or rather, what it wasn't and had decided that she didn't care. He was wrong though, Lana did care, and she just wasn't ready to let go. She knew she was reaching with both hands, her heart and soul, but Clark was always just out of her grasp. All that was left was this, his hands making her skin warm and his tongue filling her mouth. Sometimes he would touch her in a certain way that was just enough to make her hope that someday there could be something more. There were also words of love, but only in her mind.

Clark thought, after almost three weeks, that Lana should really have slapped his face by now. Or kicked his ass. She didn't know, after all, that all she'd be hitting was muscles of steel. They hadn't even gotten naked with each other. Clark drew a boundary and she hadn't pushed.

It surprised him a little. She had spent so much time demanding things from him, for him to open up and for him to give their relationship a decent shot, that he'd expected that again. So far though, she had not demanded an explanation for his sudden urgency to kiss her or asked him why. She had just accepted, which made him feel an unexpected sadness.

He hated to stop for more than one second a day thinking about what he was doing to Lana. She deserved better and he should have been better. Instead he had just taken and not given and surely Lana knew how wrong that was.

In the sixth week it rained on Friday. It was cold outside but they still met at their usual spot. Taking her hand, Clark led her into the warmth of the barn. He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, rubbing her arms softly to help her warm. She looked up at him and as he stared down into her eyes, it suddenly struck him, the weight of his actions. She was wet, sad and beautiful. He took a shaky step back and she gave him a puzzled look.

Running a hand through his damp hair, Clark turned and laughed a little. It was a bitter, sad sound and he was laughing at himself. God, he had been such a jerk. Lana was no less responsible than him, she had met every one of his kisses and touched his skin and licked his lips. But that didn't make it right on any level.

Finally, when the silence became unbearable, he turned to her. "We have to stop."

Closing her eyes, pain clouded her face. She only nodded. "I know."

Clark blinked. He had expected a fight full of anger and pain and bitterness. He almost wished for it, if only because then he might feel like he had gotten what he deserved. "I'm sorry," he whispered, knowing it was not enough. He had no words the first night and he had no words now.

She opened her eyes to give him a piercing look. "Me too."

"Why?" he asked, genuinely confused as to what she had to be sorry about. As far as he was concerned, he was the one who had gotten them both into this mess. He'd wanted to drown, for a while, and he'd dragged her with him the whole way.

"I hoped," she said simply, then shrugged.

Lana looked so lost then, in that moment, that Clark took her in his arms. It was a full embrace and he put more feeling into the way he held her then than he had into any of his kisses. She let herself lean against him, wrapping her arms around him. He was solid and he was Clark, her friend still, even after everything.

Clark closed his eyes and for the first time, realised that Lana made him feel safe. He knew that this wasn't over. They had a long and tiring conversation ahead. He'd probably end up having to suffer through her tears but he decided that he couldn't let her cry for him alone. Lana was not the one, but she was his friend and he knew he was lucky for that. She had held him when he had been weak and would forgive him this… this painful and beautiful mistake.

Lana wasn't the one he wanted her to be. There was someone else who turned his insides into outsides and made his skin feel like it was burning. He had a name in his head that vibrated through his thoughts and a part of him didn't want it to be her. He wanted it to be Lana, but that wasn't possible.

He had spent almost two months pressing Lana's body to his and every time his dreams of Lana died a little. Now, he wasn't even sure they still existed.

.-.-.

END


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